


Just a Tiny Holiday

by EventHorizon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, mystrade, tiny house movement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 15:11:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11443482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EventHorizon/pseuds/EventHorizon
Summary: Mycroft has been working far too hard and Greg is determined to make him rest and relax.  Something unique and cozy seems the perfect thing to make that happen...





	Just a Tiny Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> This work is for [techomech](https://techomech.tumblr.com/) who honored me greatly by bidding on this work in the 2017 Rupert Graves Birthday Charity Auction. Their generosity to benefit [TheirWorld](http://theirworld.org/) a wonderful, global children's charity and fantastic prompt made writing this a joy. I thank them profoundly and very much hope they enjoy it!
> 
> For those not familiar with the Tiny House Movement, Google it and browse through the images to see what faces our poor Mycroft as he embarks on his holiday ;-)

      “Mycroft, if I have to, I’ll toss that mobile right out of the window.”

      “Given there is a 37% chance it would plunge one of our allies into a rather startling economic recession, I would strongly advise against it.”

      “But… you promised!”

      “I promised to reduce my work hours to the absolute minimum when we began our holiday.”

      “We have!”

      “Au contraire.  We are currently in the car on our way _to_ begin our holiday, but our holiday, proper, has not started.”

Greg did a professional-quality angry-toddler dance in his seat, which was the plush, rear seat of one of Mycroft’s even plusher black sedans, and provided his own musical soundtrack with a stuttered whine that sounded like someone trying to start a sleepy old car who was having none of their let’s go driving today nonsense.

      “This is supposed to be your chance to rest, love.  You’ve been working yourself nearly to death and your bloody mobile is shoveling more dirt right into that grave!”

      “When we begin our holiday, I shall issue the directive to contact me on for on the most world-ending of reasons, however…”

      “Stop.  Hand it over.”

      “No, not until…”

      “We’ve officially reached ‘until.’  We’re here.”

Mycroft looked up and smirked at the loophole he could monopolize.

      “Incorrect.  We have reached the security checkpoint.  That is not the…”

      “What are you talking about?”

      “There.  That kiosk, I presume, is for the security guard.  I admit, my dear, I did not anticipate you would make arrangements at a locale so lavish it would… why are you shaking your head?”

      “Because you’re adorable when you’re snooty.  That’s not a guard house.  It’s _our_ house!”

Mycroft looked again at the miniscule structure then cut his eyes at the man sitting next to him, who was beaming as brightly as the tropical sun.

      “Very well, I will agree, for the purposes of architectural argument, that the term ‘house’ might be stretched to reference the collection of structures that comprise a single property, however…”

      “I’m not playing word games, you prat!  I always lose when we do and I’m not starting our lovely holiday off with a loss on my record.  Look at that… isn’t it great!  And, it’s all ours for a week!”

That Mycroft looked a third time, and squinted, made Greg laugh and feel even better about his tiny surprise.  Give his lover a restful holiday, but make it unique enough that he couldn’t easily fall into familiar patterns that would inevitably lead him to burying himself in work again, even if he only had his mobile as the means of his holiday’s demise.

      “Is… is there some form of tunnel leading…”

      “Oh my god… come on, out of the car.”

Greg had the door open and was standing outside the vehicle, waving off the driver in order to collect the bags from the boot himself and giving the boot lid a few hard thumps to break his partner out of whatever hypnotic trance still had him in the car.

      “Out!  Out, you horrible, overworked, suit-loving man of mystery!  Out I say and no refusal shall I take!”

A head peeked out of open doorway, looked back at Greg and glared.

      “No more telly for you, Gregory Lestrade.”

      “You have to admit that was pretty good.  I made my voice nice and loud like those actor types do, too, to really make it impressive.  Come on, then, we only have one week of freedom I don’t want to waste a single moment of it.”

Hoping beyond hope that there was fast approaching a point where his dearly beloved would shout ‘Surprise!’ and reveal the amenities-laden and luxuriously-comfortable holiday home he had taken for the week, Mycroft placed a hesitant foot out of the car.  Then a second.  Then squawked loudly when the driver jumped back into the vehicle and sped away in an impressive spray of dirt and pebbles.

      “Ha!  No escape now!”

      “You villain!”

      “The worst sort, too.  The one you love, so you can’t have me tossed in a dungeon to rot because your cock would never forgive you for the everlasting loneliness of its life.”

Now, it was Mycroft’s turn to do an angry-toddler’s dance, this one performed while standing, and involving far more foot stamping than did Greg’s.

      “Oh, stop that.  This is going to be great!  Beautiful lake views, leagues of privacy in all directions, no live telly…”

      “WHAT!”

      “Don’t worry, we’re set up for all the films and programs you like, just not live.  No sitting down to a hot breakfast and you get distracted by the news so your food gets cold and I have to eat it because you now say it’s not fit for a cat.”

      “I only did that once.”

      “That’s because I learned your ‘my food is cold and dreadful’ face and implement proactive measures.  THEN I make a fresh plate for you which you may or may not say you have time to eat because your mobile’s ringing and it’s work.”

This expression was also one Greg had learned.  It was his lover’s ‘I am caught like a rat in a trap’ expression and the especially-satisfying subcategory of that look reserved for the times his dear Mycroft not only realized that, but also that he’d realized a deeper truth that was equally difficult to digest.  He loved Mycroft, he truly did and with all his heart, but the man could be infuriating, at times, especially when he’d let himself work too long without a break.  Hence, their holiday…

      “And you promised that I have control of your mobile, so you won’t be off using that to keep your gorgeous nose in things, either.  It’s time to relax, love, and you need it.  Let’s say hello to our new house, shall we?”

      “Gregory… that structure is smaller than our bedroom!”

      “Is it?  I’d need a measuring tape and memory of those geometry lessons I slept through in school to know if that’s true and since I don’t have either, I’ll have to take your word for it, I suppose.”

Not looking back, Greg marched towards the minuscule dwelling, which was certainly larger than their bedroom, though, not by much.  But, it had everything they could want!  Kitchen, bed, shower, as well as a cozy nook to curl up with a good book or to watch a film on the built-in monitor that Anthea, who was as happy to see her boss get a holiday as he was, made certain had access to all Mycroft’s favorite entertainment options.  Plus, there was a boat to take on the lake, gentle trails to follow for long walks and the one real luxury – an outdoor hot tub just big enough for two.  The cupboards were stocked, there was alcohol aplenty and everything would be restocked midweek by a convenient delivery lorry who would also bring one of Mycroft’s very favorite cakes from his _very_ favorite bakery to celebrate him surviving a handful of days in the wilderness.  Full steam ahead…

      “Gregory… you cannot be condemning me to this… Lilliputian agony!”

All engines full stop.

      “It’s only as agonizing as you choose to make it.  Me… I plan on making it glorious!  You can enjoy the gloriousness with me or you can writhe in your agony for a whole week.  I’ll toss a slice of bread out here now and again so you don’t starve.”

      “The bread must be the size of an oxygen molecule if it exists in that mouse house!”

      “You need oxygen to survive, too, so what’s your point?”

Deciding stronger measures were needed, Greg continued marching towards their temporary nest, but with that particular strut that he knew showed his arse to best effect, which never failed to mesmerize his lover and… yep, footsteps following along because Mycroft’s feet hoped it meant their good friends, the hands, might get to fondle that particular arse in the next few minutes and that could lead to things that made all of Mycroft’s body parts extremely happy.

Setting down the bags, Greg pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked the door, leaving the luggage outside for the moment and stepped in to draw in a breath of the air that was scented with the rich scent of wood and lavender from sprigs that were standing proud in a rustic ceramic vase on the windowsill above the small kitchen sink.

      “Oh dear heavens, the waft of primitive living is corroding my lungs.”

His lover had arrived.

      “It’s wonderful!  The Tiny House group I worked with had lists of these from all over that people rented out at various times and I looked through photos and descriptions of each and every one of them before choosing this one.  Perfect location, masculine look and feel to it, but with all those little comforts you adore.”

      “They must the littlest of my preferred comforts as nothing else could fit in this badger’s den.  How large is the bed?  I doubt I can lie flat without the necessity of opening a window for my feet to protrude into the open air.  Where, I suspect, some form of animal life shall attempt to discover whether the toes of a beleaguered man of middle age make for a palatable breakfast.”

      “There’s the bed, right up in the loft and, as you can see, it’s a large one.  Plenty of room for all your pieces and parts, toes included.”

      “With the ceiling a scant quarter millimeter from the tip of my nose!”

      “Wrong.  And look there!  Have you ever seen a cozier nook for reading?  Room for two to lounge the day away, lost in the world of words.”

      “Most poetic.  I assume our personal needs must be tended to behind a tree and all bathing done in the lake, rather like cavemen.”

      “Today’s a record day for you being wrong!  See this door under our lovely loft?  Voila!  Shower, and a very modern one at that, toilet and sink.  All personal needs tidily taken care of and without a single tree involved.”

      “And our dinner?  I see what might be mistaken for one of those portable things the delusional camping advocates port upon their backs to cook whatever they find dead in the forest or dig from the ground with their ridiculous folding shovels, however, I fail to see a single surface on which to place a plate in order to consume the stomach-churning outcome of the resulting cooking debacle.”

      “Your observational powers are failing you, Mr. Holmes.  Behold!  This beautiful objet d’art…”

Greg very successfully emulated one of the highly-styled women who showed the prizes on daytime game shows as he used his theatrically-positioned hands to spotlight the large wood-inlay artwork on the wall, which was a highly detailed piece of intarsia portraying several strikingly-detailed scenes from Shakespeare’s plays.

      “I will grant that it is a handsome piece and demonstrates both an intriguing composition and skilled craftsmanship, however…”

      “Prepare to be amazed!”

Greg made a few motions and carefully let the art piece lean away from the wall where it remained attached on one end and formed a handy dining table on its bare, reverse side that was supplemented by two folding chairs that Greg removed from their storage cupboard adjacent to the oven.

      “Piece of art by day, dining room table by night!  Or art by night and table by breakfast.  Efficiency!”

Mycroft’s petulant scowl was a victory Greg sweetly savored while he waited for the next complaint to be thrust into the battle.

      “It is unutterably chilly.”

      “You’re blaming planet Earth now?”

      “The outdoor climate is under Earth’s purview, however, the climate in here is under more direct control, something that, obviously, is failing.”

      “Because we just arrived and I haven’t turned the heat on yet.  And, if I remember correctly…”

Greg peeked out a window and did a small victory dance.

      “Yes!  There’s one of those outdoor fire bowls, so I can build a fire out there for us to enjoy while we sip wine and savor the autumnal beauty of our surroundings.”

      “Autumnal beauty…”

      “I can’t claim to have thought of that myself, it was in the brochure, but it’s true!  Trees are showing color, the sun has that special quality it only gets this time of year, air is crisp, but not brutal…”

All of Mycroft sensibilities were sighing as loudly as they did when Sherlock committed one of his innumerable acts of discord and chaos, but the hopeful look in his dearest’s eyes had his heart shushing them to a mild murmur.  Gregory had put a tremendous amount of work and thought into this experience and, to be fair, had taken into account the various details he knew were necessary to ensure a level of comfort one might not immediately predict from this… shack.  However, it _was_ a shack well-provided with wine bottles in the large rack built into the wall.  The stove and oven were minuscule, yet sufficient to prepare a meal for two and were built by a rather well-known and expensive maker of such things.  And… even a quick glance at the bed said it was of a size that would easily host two adult forms and whatever activities in which they might engage while nestled between what appeared to the eye to be very high-count, high-quality sheets.

Further he could not negatively score the cleanliness of the dwelling, for it was well-scrubbed and, as his eye observed more closely, there was a host of architectural details that allowed for easy storage of the clothes and other items they had brought with them.  He was standing in what amounted in size to a society maven’s walk-in closet, but he did have to award a few grudgingly-given points towards the design that _could_ make the structure habitable for a week’s time.  And his love would be so terribly happy if they could test that theory…

      “I suppose, given there is no transportation besides the somewhat laughable boat by the lake’s edge, I am resigned to serve my full week’s sentence in your dollhouse prison.”

      “Yes!  Oh, you’re going to enjoy yourself, Mycroft, just watch.  No distractions, no pressures, nothing but your own whims and the time to indulge them.  In fact, why don’t we get started!  I sent ahead with a provisions list, so… ah, here it is!  A bottle of your favorite Pinot Noir.  We can sip on that while we unpack and… hold on… there.  Media system is pre-loaded with your very favorite pieces of music.  We should be able to hear it outside, too, so once we’ve got things put away, why don’t we sit out there awhile and relax?”

Gregory Lestrade was a unique, vibrant, breathtaking and unfailingly loving man… it was clearly a mistake on the part of the universe to set such an individual in the life of the dreary, plodding Mycroft Holmes, however, the Mycroft Holmes in question was ecstatic for the celestial accounting error.

      “Given my objections will not sway your scheming… it is not the worst of all possible suggestions.”

Which Greg knew was his lover’s way of saying he was willing to give this a try, but the chains of his pride were awaiting the bolt cutters before he could admit it more plainly.  Nothing beyond what Greg would expect and all part of what made his lover the most unique, complex, amazing man the world had ever known.  A few glasses of wine, something succulent for dinner and then a few hours of reading, curled up together sharing a blanket… perfect way to begin a quiet holiday and there was nobody nearby to hear any late-night noises when that quiet holiday became a little noisier.  And sexier…

__________

      “I am concussed!”

      “Ooh… you’ve got a bump, alright.  Better remember that a tall bloke like you needs to be cautious on that last step when you’re climbing up to bed.  I’m not certain why they put a beam there, but it’s probably structural or something.”

      “Gregory!  Are you not even phoning for an ambulance?”

      “You remembered my name.  You’re fine.”

      “I shall not forget this, Gregory Lestrade.”

      “Both my names!  Let’s get naked and I’ll reward you for still knowing who you’re in love with.”

      “Can we do what we tried last Wednesday night?”

      “What we saw in that spicy film I found online?  Sure!  It’ll be especially filthy in this little space where your voice will echo off the walls.”

      “My head bump is no longer lethal.”

      “Glad to hear it.”

__________

      “Gregory?”

      “Hmmm?”

      “You have imprisoned me in the shower.”

      “No I haven’t.”

      “The shower door will not open with you standing there shaving.”

      “Won’t it?  Oh, well it will, but it’ll collide with my plush posterior, won’t it.  Hold on…”

      “Gregory!  You… why are you removing your… you are naked.  What purpose did that serve?”

      “Now, you can use your imprisonment to admire my arse until I finish shaving.”

      “Oh… do carry on.”

      “Thank you.”

      “And do not hurry on my account.”

__________

      “Absolutely not.”

      “It’ll be fun!”

      “That is utterly impossible.”

      “I even packed your swimming shorts.  The water’s not that cold and…”

      “ _And_ it is filled with animal wastes and the rotting carcasses of deceased fish.  Oh, and do not forget the various species of parasites.  They add their own particular horror to your fantasy.”

      “Fine!  I’ll swim alone, then, in this crystal-clear water and you can just sit there being bored.”

      “That sounds… Gregory!  Why are you undressing out here?”

      “Because I’m swimming naked.”

      “That… that is exceedingly improper.”

      “Which makes it all the more fun.”

      “I see… do you plan on meeting all of my objections this week with nudity?”

      “Maybe.”

      “Oh.”

      “Like it?”

      “I… yes.”

      “Want to join me now?”

      “We… we _did_ enjoy a rather vigorous in-water encounter when you accompanied me to Switzerland and our suite accessed the private swimming pool.”

      “And this time, we don’t have to worry about the German trade representative deciding he wants a swim and getting an eyeful of our naked splendor.”

      “Had that occurred, however, it might have secured Britain an even better deal on automobile parts and foodstuffs.”

      “Mechanics and grocers can waggle their own cocks if they want better prices.”

      “I shall put that in the next negotiation-strategy packet.”

      “Does that mean nakedness now?”

      “Oh, I suppose I can brave the effluvia for a small quantity of nakedness.”

      “And hot sex?”

      “That, too.”

__________

      “This is certainly an… enclosing space.”

      “It’s supposed to be that way.  Soft, snuggly place to sit and stretch a bit, warm blankets, cubbies in the wall for our wine glasses, nibble plates, those fake candles you thought were going to be dreadful, but actually don’t look bad at all, now the sun’s gone down, so we have some soft, warm light while we watch our film…  you have to admit this is incredibly romantic.”

      “Do I?”

      “If you don’t want to be labeled a liar, then yes, you do.”

      “I suppose that if I am forced, though drastic and draconian measures…”

      “Like nakedness?”

      “An appropriate example… that the romantic nature of this particular setting is measurable.”

      “Measurable?”

      “That does imply a value above zero.”

      “I’m not sure ‘measurable’ merits nakedness.”

      “No?”

      “No.”

      “Then… palpable?”

      “Better.”

      “Nakedness now?”

      “This lush blanket is going to feel great against my bare skin.  Almost as good as _your_ bare skin against my bare skin.”

      “But not quite, correct?”

      “Certainly not.  But, it’s worth testing for the sake of science.”

      “Sherlock would be proud.”

      “That he would.”

__________

      “My favorite cake!”

      “Told you I wasn’t going to make you live like a barbarian.  And I know exactly the wine to pick to complement all that chocolatey goodness.  Dinner first, though.”

      “Might I ask why?”

      “Because… fuck it, you’re right.  We’re on holiday, so cake and wine for dinner it is!”

      “Your assessment is flawless, my dear.”

      “I’m a bit proud of it myself.”

__________

      “Good heavens, Gregory… I do believe that is a Eurasian Blackcap!”

      “Where?”

      “Point your binoculars towards the branch approximately seventeen degrees to your left and forty-seven degrees above the ground.”

      “Your approximately is anyone else’s exactly.”

      “It is not NASA-standard precise, so I shall not accept any laurels.”

      “Fair enough.  Ooh, he’s a cute little chap.  What’s the ‘good heavens’ bit about?”

      “It is quite the rarity.  I should document his presence with my camera.”

      “Mycroft Holmes… you’re one of those twitchers, aren’t you?”

      “I… no?”

      “Try again.”

      “I… when I was younger, I had _some_ fascination for the various bird species that occupied our region and their various behaviors.”

      “Really?  That’s brilliant!”

      “It is?”

      “Yeah, it is.  Why wouldn’t it be?”

      “Bird watching is not… well, it has a reputation as a hobby for, shall we say… eccentrics.”

      “Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean it’s not interesting.  Anderson does it, which _does_ support your theory, I admit, but he says it’s loads of fun.  Like a scavenger hunt, but you don’t clutter your boot with useless rubbish and get to see some lovely birds and scenery while you’re at it.  Can you teach me?”

      “You would enjoy that?”

      “Sure!  I know he’s got some spots in London that he likes and you probably know more, so why not do something fun like walk about hunting for wee things like that little fellow when we’ve got time and the weather is nice?”

      “I would like that, Gregory.  Thank you.”

      “Thank _you_.  Now, get a snap of your bird before it flies away.”

      “Yes, that is most important.  Hold my binoculars.”

      “Of course, sir.  Need to use me as a tripod?”

      “A prudent suggestion.  The photograph must document clearly the features necessary to confirm my identification for the official records.”

      “Official records?”

      “There is much for you to learn, Gregory.  Consider this lesson one.”

      “Do the others involve beer?”

      “Not necessarily, however, I shall script suitable codicils to satisfy your thirst.”

      “Very kind of you, sir.”

      “I strive to be gracious to my photographic equipment.”

__________

      “Aaahhh… this is delightful…”

      “It does get chilly out on the water, doesn’t it?  It’s a good little boat, though.  Handles well…”

      “You are fully empowered to captain the craft, Gregory… I am content to captain this hot tub.”

      “It’s an admirable hot tub, Captain Holmes, and you do command her well.  Right temperature, perfect alignment of those massaging jets… you know your stuff.”

      “Thank you, my dear.  Though, I still shall not lay a finger upon those beastly fish, no matter your level of flattery.”

      “I really have to clean them all myself?”

      “You chose to occupy your time on the water with a fishing pole, rather than an agreeable piece of fiction, which was my choice, so you must pay the consequences.”

      “But, you’ll help me cook, won’t you?”

      “That much assistance I will gladly provide.  I am still surprised a space that microscopic can manage two bodies preparing a meal, however, I shall not question the possible influence of a space-time warping to achieve the task.”

      “And, right after dinner, we can continue with our Doctor Who marathon.”

      “You read my mind.”

      “I read your mouth.”

      “They are neurally connected, so the principle is sound.”

__________

      “I’m really, really sorry, love.”

      “The odor is lethal!  And there is nowhere to hide in this broom cupboard!”

      “Try climbing up to the bed and see if that… oh, you’re already doing it.”

      “It’s no better up here.  I shall die in a cloud of toxic flatulence and that is not what I want recorded for posterity in my obituary!”

      “I’ll make up something that sounds better.”

      “Such as?”

      “I’ll shoot you post mortem and claim terrorists.”

      “You do not own a firearm.”

      “I’ll club you on the head and claim crazed cricketers.”

      “Better.  Oh, the stench is intensifying…”

      “Outside to the hot tub?”

      “And I demand wine!”

      “Wine, hot tub and fresh air – got it.”

      “And you will never again consume tofu and broccoli while we cohabitate.”

      “I think that might be wise.”

__________

      “The car should be here in an hour or so, love.  Do we have everything?”

Mycroft looked at their few bits of luggage and ran through the packing process in his mind to catalog all they contained.

      “I believe we do, but I know you will take three seconds to look through the entirety of his house once more to be certain.”

      “Yeah, it’s a small house, but you have to admit, it’s not as horrid as you first thought.”

      “I will concede the point, though, my attitude would be markedly different if I was required to bring along one of my suits, for the devastation caused by the infinitesimal storage areas would be irreparable.”

      “I… I suspect we could find another tiny house with a real closet to fit, at least, one of your fine suits.”

      “And why would we even attempt such a thing?”

      “I don’t know… maybe… you’ve mentioned now and again finding a bit of property in the country that we could visit when we had a weekend free.”

      “We are not moving into a tiny house, Gregory.”

      “Who said anything about moving into one!  Just… visiting one, on occasion.  It’s different… something fresh and unique.  I adore our London home, you know how much I adore it, but there’s nothing wrong with having something for contrast.  Somewhere it… well, it feels wrong to wear a nice suit.  Where we really can’t have a quick kiss hello, then go off to our own studies to continue working after we’ve already worked all day.  Where you appreciate every little thing that’s here because there’s so bloody little space for anything that you have to have only the things that matter most around you.  Can’t take a single thing for granted.  But… maybe, I’m just being daft…”

Mycroft took his lover in his arms and kissed him softly, lingering to gaze into Greg’s eyes and run fingers along his cheek.

      “You are not being daft, my dear.  In truth, I cannot find fault with any part of your argument.  I absolutely believed I would despise this week and find myself, now, feeling more rested and refreshed than I could possibly have predicted.  And, a part of me, is wistful at the thought of seeing this petite structure growing even smaller as away from it we drive off for home.  I never believe your sentimental nature daft, Gregory, for it is a part of you I treasure and a part that nurtures my own shriveled, desiccated sentimentality so that, day by day, it becomes more than a dusty mummy in a forgotten room of my mind.”

      “Then… maybe you’ll think about it?”

      “Unfortunately, no.  I do not foresee making a future purchase of a tiny house.”

      “Oh.  Well, I can’t say I didn’t try.”

      “That you cannot.  Oh, before I forget…”

Mycroft reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to the little house’s door and set it in Greg’s hands.

      “Ooh, yeah.  Can’t forget that.  Have to lock up and return this or I lose the deposit.  Why are you smiling?  I know a hundred quid isn’t anything to you, but to me…”

      “I am afraid that you shall likely not receive back your deposit, my dear.”

      “Why not?  We left everything clean, didn’t break anything and the owner will get his key back exactly as the rules stated.”

      “I’m afraid the owner is rather a ruthless fellow when it comes to money and I suspect no amount of negotiation will earn back your funds.”

Greg’s face clouded in confusion and anger before his detective’s brain asked if it might have a word with him and began to point out salient features of his lover’s expression, as well as the fact that Mycroft wasn’t involved in the rental process and would have no reason to know anything about the owner unless…

      “What if nakedness is involved in the negotiations?”

      “Oh, well that is another matter entirely.  I wager that nakedness, properly applied, might earn you back your hundred pounds and quite a substantial sum beyond that.”

      “You bought this house, didn’t you?”

      “That I did.”

      “When?”

      “I placed the call to set the proverbial ball in motion last night while you were showering and committed to the transaction when you took time this morning to ensure the boat was secure and saw to the draining of the hot tub.  All that is required is the finalizing of a few details and a signature on the purchase agreement.”

      “What… I… why didn’t you tell me?”

      “I believe I did but thirty seconds ago.”

      “I… well, yeah, but… really?”

Chuckling softly, Mycroft took Greg again in his arms and held him gently.

      “I would have purchased the house simply because your adoration of it was clear from the moment we set foot inside.  However… I found my own thoughts and perceptions moving very much along the lines you outlined a moment ago.  An utterly contrasting experience to what we enjoy in London was astonishingly helpful in putting, as they say, a wind in my sails and allowed me something I want more than anything else – to focus upon you and the love we share.  This week was a pure celebration of who we are and what we are building and I would repeat this whenever we can spare the time.  And, if I might boast, when I made the inquiry, I learned that the individual owning the house and surrounding land is a rather noted member of our business community.  The purchase of this property will form part of a larger investment initiative, on my part, that I predict will enrich our household coffers most lucratively.”

      “So, you bought this all of this and still plan to make money on the deal?”

      “Quite a lot of it, actually.  I have been hoping to update my investment portfolio, in any case, and this is a very auspicious start to that process.”

Greg still felt as if he’d been run over by a lorry, but he couldn’t stop the laughter burbling up and he let it spill out as he gave his Mycroft a massive hug.

      “Well, profitable or not, thank you, love.  Thank you so very, very much.  I… I honestly can’t believe this is ours!”

      “Well, it will be in a week or so.  In the meantime, I would suggest taking a wealth of photographs so you can make any plans you wish for additions or changes and, of course, to make appropriate purchases for walking shoes and a captain’s hat.”

      “The boat’s ours, too!”

      “It will be a handy thing for navigating the lake.  I was informed the village from where come our groceries is across the lake from us and boasts several exceptional cafes, as well as that quaint atmosphere that I know you prize.”

If his lover’s eyes shined any more brightly, Mycroft would have to begin seeking a pair of sunglasses and would feel completely foolish in them for only boors and bounders wore sunglasses indoors.

      “I… this is beyond belief!  Our own tiny house, in a fucking beautiful area with… with everything in reach to do just as you said - focus on us and how much I love you.  And I do love you, Mycroft.  Every day you surprise me, every day you remind me why I’m the luckiest man on the planet.”

      “Then, you will not mind returning here in two weeks’ time to properly inaugurate our new acquisition?”

      “Do you have the time free?”

      “I hadn’t thought so, however, my PA texted me when she learned of my machinations and informed me that if I did not christen our new holiday home in a duly festive manner, she would lose all respect for me and see I had nothing for my lunch this next month but boiled tongue.  I believe she approves of my having further incentive to take a holiday, even if it is only for a day or two.”

      “Long drive for a day or two, though.”

      “Fortunately, helicopters are an invention real to the world and not a part of some Hogwarts-esque fantasy concoction.”

      “Helicopter!  You… well, doesn’t that sound posh.”

      “Which is making you smile, my dear, and quite fetchingly, at that.”

      “Hard not to smile at the idea of riding in a helicopter.”

      “Though we will have to be somewhat cautious during nesting season, for I would not wish to disrupt the local avian populace when they are trying to rear their delicate young.”

      “Smart.  And… shit.”

      “Now?”

      “Funny.  No, the car’s here.”

Mycroft glanced out the window and sighed loudly.

      “That it is.  Well, our absence shall only be a brief one.”

      “Yes!  And next time… we won’t need to pack as many clothes.”

      “No?”

      “I believe you said nakedness was part of the negotiations to get my hundred quid back.”

The wicked peek of tongue from between Greg’s lips told Mycroft that nakedness was the beginning of negotiation process and it would only get more… intense… from there.

      “You are correct.  However, I warn you now, I am somewhat a ferocious negotiator.”

      “Ferocious, huh?  Good.  I like a challenge.”

      “It shall be a herculean one, I assure you.”

      “Even better.  And, when we’ve done something truly idiotic, we’ve got a hot tub to soothe the strained muscles and sore backs!”

Rolling his eyes and failing utterly to hide the smile that broke out on his lips, Mycroft made a ‘get to it, porter’ motion at Greg and the bags, before strolling as regally as possible out the door and towards the waiting car.  Yes, this was the most unexpected week imaginable, yet it would ever remain one of the fondest in his memory.

Until, of course, their next one… 


End file.
